


Bond

by nhasablog



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Tickle Fights, Tickling, post book 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: “I just wondered if I could tickle you by tickling myself,” Rhy admitted, and Kell let out a surprised, nearly hysterical laugh. “Oh, is that a belated reaction?”(Or, Rhy tests out the limits of their bond)
Relationships: Kell Maresh & Rhy Maresh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the end of the first book. I don't really know exactly how this bond of theirs works, so this is mostly speculation. I hope you enjoy!

It took Rhy two months before he started using their new bond to his advantage. He was in a rare genuine playful mood. Not the illusion of his old self he’d taken to sporting more frequently recently, but a proper good mood; mischief glinting in his eyes and so welcome Kell nearly cried. Even though he used to shake his head at that look, knowing it meant trouble. Usually trouble that he’d get pulled into.

But that day he would do whatever Rhy asked, despite knowing he probably shouldn’t.

“Do you think we can only feel each other’s pain?”

The question was unexpected, especially combined with Rhy’s easy expression. “I think it’s the strongest thing we share,” Kell replied, choosing his words with care. “I can feel your headaches after a night of drinking, but it’s vague. I can feel your excitement, your anger, but sometimes I don’t realize if it’s yours or mine.”

“Do you feel what I feel now?”

Kell cocked his head to the side. “I might be able to feel a faint excitement.”

“Must be strange, to feel something so different for once.”

Kell ignored him. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” Rhy replied nonchalantly. “Just wanted to know more about this bond we’ll share for the rest of our lives. Or, well, yours.”

Something slipped beneath the emotions now. A sting as the realization of their reality hit once more. Kell couldn’t tell to which one of them it belonged to.

“But I was also wondering if you could feel this,” Rhy continued, and it took Kell a moment to see that he meant the fingertips he was running up and down his own arm.

Kell looked at his own, feeling the ghost of the sensation on the skin, but he knew it was only because he’d seen Rhy do it. “I don’t. It’s not strong enough.”

“If I do this?” Rhy moved his hand toward his torso, gripping his side and squeezing.

Kell shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What about now?” Hand moving even further down, landing on his thigh, squeezing again.

“No.”

“Dammit.”

Kell was utterly confused now. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered if I could tickle you by tickling myself,” Rhy admitted, and Kell let out a surprised, nearly hysterical laugh. “Oh, is that a belated reaction?”

Kell shook his head, wiping his brother’s hopeful expression right off his face. “Is _that_ what you’re trying to do?”

“I was merely trying to find ways to make your smile for once,” Rhy said defensively, palms up. “God knows you have no sense of humor.”

Kell snorted. The idea had been so naive, so childish, so _innocent_ , that Kell nearly wished it had worked.

“It’d be a cruel punishment if it worked like that,” he said in mock seriousness, Rhy’s easy mood rubbing off on him.

“Oh, truly,” Rhy replied, nodding. “The one thing I have going for me is that I’m not as sensitive as you.”

Kell crossed his arms. “It’s unfair.”

“It’s the one thing about us that _is_ fair, brother. Besides, imagine if someone with my interests would be forced to shy away from a _touch_.”

“How horrific.”

Rhy shuddered. “I can tell why you never have any fun. You’d just be tickled to death.”

Kell felt his cheeks heat up. “Oh, stop. This conversation is ridiculous.”

“Ah!” Rhy’s grin was playful. “I can feel your embarrassment. Is it really that strong?”

“Shut up.”

“So defensive.” Something positively _evil_ flickered across Rhy’s face. Brief, but there. Kell took a step back. “Speaking of this, though. It’s been a while since I heard you properly laughing.”

Kell pointed a finger at him. “Rhy, I’m warning you.”

“Are you threatening the future king?”

“Rhy.” Rhy started approaching him, and Kell was running out of space to back into. “Rhy, come on.”

“I miss your laughter, Kell.”

“I can laugh. I’ll laugh right now.”

“I miss your _real_ laughter.”

Kell almost said something about pretending, putting on an act, but Rhy looked too happy for Kell to bother. Too rare, that proper happiness. That carefree youth that Rhy had been robbed off. Even if it was at Kell’s expense, he couldn’t wipe it away just yet.

But he could run.

Years ago, when it had been established that Kell was too ticklish for his own good while Rhy simply giggled if you squeezed certain spots just right, they’d set an unspoken rule that Kell couldn’t use magic to hold him off. Not for regular brotherly fun. Wrestling matches, play pretend, tickle fights. He could only use his body, and they both soon realized that was never enough.

Kell had learnt to live with it. With being reduced to a giggly mess as Rhy pinned him down. As they grew older Kell started protesting with vigor before Rhy attacked, so their games had been cut short as Rhy respected his space. It meant that Kell didn’t have the heart to push him away when Rhy really tried to engage in this behavior. The act so familiar and childlike that he had to let him go through with it.

But he always ran. Always put up a fight, at first. He had too much pride, after all, but he also knew the chase was half the fun.

He felt a surge of excitement as he jumped over the bed, the place he hoped Rhy at least had the decency to trap him against later rather than the floor. Rhy laughed behind him, and Kell could feel his glee beside his own. Apparently Rhy wasn’t the only one having fun.

“You can’t run forever,” Rhy shouted, and Kell picked up speed simply because he could.

In the end, when Kell finally allowed his brother to catch him, wrestling him down onto the bed and letting his fingers collide with Kell’s ribs, they both laughed for different reasons.

“I can feel your excitement,” Rhy teased, backing off to give him a breather. “You _like_ this.”

“You can feel your own masochism,” Kell snapped back, but he felt his face flush beyond the heat of the fight. Stupid bond.

“That’s cute,” Rhy continued, most likely feeling his embarrassment again, but saying nothing, which was surprising. Kell reckoned he had enough to tease him about anyway. “Is your neck still a death spot?”

“Rhy, you _bastard-_ ”

“I’m surprised your body isn’t going into shock from how unused it is to laughing.”

Kell had to admit he was unused to the sound, but he remembered the sensation. Always feeling it in Rhy’s presence. Rhy, the menace, he’d once called him. Rhy and his wiggling fingers, playful grin. Rhy, his brother.

Kell managed to grab his wrist between his breathless giggling, removing it from the area beneath his chin. “Don’t think,” he started, hoarse and desperate. “I’ve forgotten about the _spot_.”

Rhy tried to flee as realization hit him, but Kell was less merciful and went for the skin behind his knee immediately, holding his leg between his own, the two of them a tangle of limbs as Rhy cried out loud enough for his guards to burst into the room.

As children they could’ve explained this easily. As adults they could merely order them to leave again, both red-faced and laughing.

“At least we know you can still laugh,” Rhy said, ruffling Kell’s hair and moving away before Kell could retaliate.

“Smug bastard,” Kell mumbled, but he could feel the small spark of easy happiness for the rest of the day, fitting nicely beside his own.


End file.
